


Quickening

by Aggression



Series: Resonance [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Nondescript sex, Unhappy Ending, a brief reference to mechpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aggression/pseuds/Aggression
Summary: Two mechs end up predestined for each other even though they're on opposite sides of a war, and one of them doesn't even realize they're technically enemies.Shockwave planned for a lot of possible scenarios before setting out on his mission, but he never planned for this.





	Quickening

**Author's Note:**

> Over a year ago I asked  zuzeca  if I could play in her sandbox since I really love her set up for soulmates in  Samizdat.  I'm glad I've finally hit a point where I'm happy enough with it to post it.

_Tap. Tap._ The newly appointed Longarm Prime sifted through files on his datapad. His promotion was fresh, but he had been filling the role of the leader of the Intelligence Agency for awhile now. Highbrow Prime had needed to be missing for a period of time before Longarm had been allowed to assume the position in full.

Now, he had full access to the wealth of data of the agency, and comprehensive knowledge of all the tools and agents at his disposal. Longarm, as a Minor, had had a high level of clearance, but there had still been portions of intel he would not be made privy to until a situation arose where it was needed. That, thankfully, was no longer the case.

Hard work paid off and he was right where he needed to be.

The halls of Metroplex were fairly quiet. Longarm nodded cordially to the few he passed.

He had already read through all of the data relevant to today’s meeting. The files he was currently reading were of lower importance. Sorting through them now made it so no one bothered to talk to him as he walked, and helped foster his image of being very dedicated to his position.

He was not interested in making friends. Autobots were quite sociable though. He was newly promoted, and was nurturing a rather reserved personality for his persona. He would not need to stop for much small talk yet.

He nodded to Cliffjumper as he entered the main office wing. The mech was talking over his comms, obviously annoyed with the caller. Longarm Prime gave him a small empathetic smile before entering his office.

It was not a long wait before one agent Blurr walked into his office.

Blues far more vibrant than Longarm’s own colours made his Elite Guard emblem stand out in contrast. Blurr’s shared status among both divisions had been one of the first threats Shockwave had from his file, second only to the records of his speed.

Longarm Prime had been seated. He stood up, and noted that Blurr checked his speed to an average one as they reached over the desk to clasp each other’s forearms. It brought them close enough to comfortable mesh the outer layer of their EM fields in cordial greeting. He motioned for the agent to sit as he settled back down himself.

“Thank you for meeting with me agent Blurr. Your file is very impressive.”

Though he may have controlled his movement, Blurr’s vocal glitch showed through. “Thank you sir. I do hope to continue my success streak with my assignments and I hope to meet whatever expectations you have of me. My understanding is a lot of your work has led to the set up of some of my previous assignments even if you didn’t know it at the time and I’m sure we’ll be able to find even more success working more closely together.”

It came out as a tumble, but Shockwave’s powerful sensory processors handled the agent’s speech fine after a quick on-the-spot calibration. “I’m certain we will be able to. I don’t have much for you at the moment. Our division’s going to focus on finishing up the last objectives that Highbrow Prime set in motion. Those that we are capable of finishing at least. You have already finished yours, of course.”

Blurr only nodded, and Shockwave, for a moment, contrasted that reaction against some of the other Autobots he had met, like one arrogant blue Prime.

“For now, just continue investigating leads on possible Decepticon agents. I am going to be preparing an offworld mission for you soon. I am concerned with how little consideration Highbrow Prime had been placing on threats outside of the Decepticons lately. I’m hoping your efficiency will quickly fill in the gaps in our intel.”

“Of course sir I’ll be ready whenever you decide to send me -”

It was oddly impressive how cleanly Blurr could cut off his speech. Shockwave would have the urge to further consider the scope of the oddities of Blurr's physiology if he was not dealing with a surprise of his own.

He could not even guess when his EM field had reached out to mesh fully with Blurr’s own. His spark was warm and thrumming, energetic with a pure knowing that took even Shockwave a moment to understand.

His spark was singing with _resonance_.

It whirled harder as anger rose in his lines. Shockwave preferred logic and rationality over flimsy perceptions such as fate.

He could not gauge much of Blurr’s reaction. Flustered, the blue bot accosted after rambling a reason to leave. At least he waited for permission.

This complicated things.

Shockwave had calmed by the next cycle. Longarm Prime and Blurr could avoid each other. His processor was already compiling the parameters of Blurr’s next mission so he could get the bot off of Cybertron. He was not being cowardly; he was being prudent.

He had much to consider and decide, and though he wished for Blurr’s feelings to be irrelevant, he would have no such luxury. Shockwave did not currently have the data he needed to even begin predicting how Blurr was going to react, and so he would buy himself some time by sending the Autobot away and keeping him busy.

He had little information how spark resonant lifemates were treated on Cybertron, let alone Blurr’s native colony of Velocitron.

Shockwave had never considered the possibility of himself having a spark resonant, and the reality that his was not a Decepticon was horrifying. Anger rose in his lines again, a ghostly taste of rancid energon in his intake.

Spark resonants, within Decepticon culture, were supposed to be a thing to be celebrated. When one met their resonant they were meeting their other half, and were said to be a destined force to be reckoned with. Lugnut and Strika were the greatest living example of such a pair, and those who wished for another in their lives prayed that they would become as great as those two.

Shockwave had been perfectly content on his own. Some would say he was cursed. Having one’s resonant being an Autobot was not even a notion that a ‘Con _entertained_. He was one of Megatron’s generals, when he was not occupied with his own missions. He could not have this blemish attached to his name.

He would figure out an effective course of action.

 

* * *

 

Cybertron was a large planet with a large populace, at the heart of a commonwealth that still grew because of Vector Sigma’s influence. It was organized, stratified, with little population movement. Once a mechanism had grown out of their younglinghood they carved out their niche in life and rarely grew beyond it.

They vacationed of course. Travelled for relaxation when they could afford it. Others travelled for work. Their population was not stagnant. But with its large size and social organization, it seemed the idea of spark resonance had been pushed to the wayside.

True spark resonance was also rare in general. As Shockwave dug deeper into Autobot culture, he also discovered that spark resonance had recently been through a long period of being taboo within Cybertron’s local culture after the discovery of old texts that precursed the warframe/civilian model divide that implied a fated resonant bond between Prima and Megatronus. The phenomenon status had only improved after the historian who had made the claims had been discredited.

(History wasn’t one of Shockwave’s preferred fields of study, but he did make a note of that incident. He wondered if the text had truly been falsified or with there had been government meddling involved. It was a general curiosity. He ignored the part of his processor that was running speculations of wide spread culture ramifications that would occur on both sides of the war if that discovery was true.)

Had Shockwave found himself resonating with a native of Cybertron the situation could have been handled easily. He would have been confident in his ability to convince the other of just ignoring their reactions to each other and continuing on with their lives. Social stigma along with work relationships would have been what Shockwave would have used to keep them at a distance.

That's if they had been raised on Cybertron.

Blurr was, unfortunately for Shockwave, from Velocitron. A colony that held regards for spark resonance in a fashion far more similar to Decepticon culture than Cybertron's current culture. The speed planet had a prolific history of famous spark resonant racing pairs. Even if one member of a resonant bond wasn't as skilled on the track as the other, there was a general belief that the partner who was a notable racer would see an increase in performance. The colony of Velocitron, like the Decepticons, believed that finding a spark resonant can only make mecha better.

Shockwave was sure Blurr understood how drastic the differences between Cybertron’s and Velocitron’s views on spark resonance were. The agent was working with the false assumption that Longarm Prime held the same regards as Cybertron’s populace through. The colony Longarm pretended to originate from was far more closely related to Cybertron than Velocitron was.

Shockwave’s preferred result was Blurr electing to ignore his superior himself. Longarm would make sure there was an understanding between the two of them that no hard feelings that would affect their work relationship. He predicted that chances of that actually happening were fairly low.

Blurr, at the very least, would want a rather in depth conversation with Longarm Prime. Shockwave could not decide if the odds were better that Blurr would try to pursue a relationship, or that he would try to completely discourage one himself.

Blurr returned to Cybertron solar cycles later. He brought back with him a successful mission, a processor filled with damaging information that when sent to the right parties would prevent the Nebulons from interfering with the Cybertronian conflict for awhile. The Nebulons were always looking for their next chance to steal from Cybertronians, whether Decepticon or Autobot. Shockwave could not eliminate the other agent yet, but directing Blurr to mutual enemies was a sure way to quickly benefit the Decepticons while he remained undercover.

The agent gave a quick report and handed over the data to Longarm Prime. He uploaded it to Longarm’s terminal in the Head of Intelligence’s office before deleting it from his own processor. For its importance it was a relatively quick process. Blurr was respooling his transfer cable back into his wrist when he cornered Longarm.

“We should talk.”

Shockwave felt calm while he made Longarm react with fluster, optics going slightly wide as he jerked from looking to his terminal to the agent. He would get through this conversation and deflect Blurr if he did want to try for a relationship and that would be that.

“Ah… well… You must understand…”

“That Cybertron, for some reason, has twisted the meaning of spark resonance and then thrown it and its significance to the side? I am well aware.”

“...You feel strongly on the subject then.”

“Hm. Do you know the opinion of resonance on Velocitron?”

“Yes.”

Shockwave did not equate Autobots to any form of strength, but Blurr’s EM field was open and flared out, heavily resounding with resolution and a determination that warned Longarm that getting out of this conversation would not be easy.

“Did you know that Velocitron has the highest rates of mecha born from two or more parent bots?”

“It is not something I have looked into.” A lie, but Longarm Prime would have no reason to look into those statistics. Shockwave had ruled out Velocitron as a fake home colony for Longarm for that very reason. It created a smaller sample size to place his falsified records in. “Can I assume you born then and not built?”

Born - his spark and first frame would have been nurtured and built within his carrier-progenitor. Frame upgrades and additional protoform would have been donated to him to grow Blurr to his adult frame. It was a lengthy and taxing process, currently and completely not feasible for the Decepticon cause. The amount of resources Velocitron was willing to put into their mechlings was astounding when compared to the average populace within the Autobot Commonwealth.

It was all for the gain of being home to the fastest grounders alive. Blurr was proof that the process worked, even if he was an outlier even to normal Velocitronian speed.

“Yes. And my creators were spark resonants and-”

Where one would normally trail off with this speech, Blurr instead came to an abrupt halt; it still gave the same effect. Longarm waited for him to continue.

“Well I never thought I would be lucky enough to meet my resonant first of all and I shoved that notation to the wayside once I transferred to Cybertron. It was something for maybe later, waaaay later, and at the same time I figured it was something that would simply never happen for me. It’s not ideal for someone with my job, especially not while I’m here on Cybertron. But-”

Blurr leaned onto Longarm’s desk, one servo resting on the top, digits tapping erratically. His other rested on his hip. Longarm Prime shifted in his chair. Blurr was staring at him, optics intently boring into his own. It was silent, for a moment.

“Do you genuinely have nothing to say?”

“What would you want me to say?”

Blurr’s optics narrowed, blue pinpricks of light in the dark guards of his helm configuration and the black plating that covered parts of his face. Longarm’s mouth was a hardline, partially hidden by his mouthguard, a little design choice Shockwave had made so that his expressions were harder to read, allowing him a larger margin of error when emoting himself. Expressions had taken him large amounts of practice.

It felt like none of that mattered here. Though Blurr, as a mech, was flippant when social, far more introverted than extroverted, he was not backing down here. He was not being disrespectful; though he was leaning over the desk, he was not leaning into Longarm. It was to show that he was not going to move until he was done here.

Time stretched as the Autobot waited.

There was a pull in Shockwave’s spark, and he knew he was out of his processor for continuing the conversation.

“You speak of your creators, but we could never have a normal relationship.”

Blurr vented and offlined his optics for a moment before replying. “I know I know. That’s not the point though. Primus above, we wouldn’t be here if we were mecha meant to have a normal relationship, but I think we could work one out that’s our own. I think that’s something worth trying.”

Far out of his processor. “Give me time to think. We would need to set boundaries. _I am not yet agreeing._ ”

Blurr nodded, stepping back from Longarm’s desk. “Let me know when you want to talk about this.”

Shockwave watched as Blurr hesitated, intake opening and closing once before he spoke again. “To me, the most important boundary would be no spark merging.”

That surprised Shockwave, and he allowed a small bit of it to show on Longarm’s face. He had already been figuring out how to stop a needy little Autobot from approaching that subject. “I think that is agreeable.”

“Okay, ah, good.” Blurr nodded once before exiting.

Shockwave would make use of this. It would put Blurr right in his servos. If needed, a dirty secret such as this could be used to deflect from the secret of his identity.

Regardless, this was probably still just a fragging mistake.

 

* * *

 

It was a mistake, and yet one that became so easy to justify. Emotional health was not an excuse he had ever used before, but he would take the chance now.

There were benefits. Blurr was extremely amicable to all of Longarm’s plans, and polite with any corrections or additions he suggested. He could be criticizing when needed, but it was constructive, not spiteful.

Blurr was a rare individual because he did not drastically drain Shockwave’s energy when they spent time together. The speedster had picked up on that was acting as a social buffer in the office now. Longarm Prime didn’t have to say much (no one did) when Blurr was there to ramble through a conversation.

Shockwave still couldn’t avoid as much social interaction as eh would have liked to though. Longarm Prime had a division to run after all.

At least Cliffjumper’s blunt demeanor was a break from the false platitudes Longarm had to deal with during council meetings.

“Hound’s report is finally in, abet a day late. Mirage is complaining about having to process the new applicants from the boot camp.”

“You’ve reminded him that he does need to work even if he has not been cleared for field duty by the medical division?”

Cliffjumper scoffed. “Yes, and he’s a dolt who’s gonna be stuck out of the field longer now. He used a polish on his new armour that affected its integration process onto his protoform, so they had to remove and reset all of the plating on his left arm again.”

Longarm Prime sighed. “He is not getting out of processing the recruits then. I will deal with him later.”

“Good luck. Maybe do it before you spend time with Blurr. Mirage is being so pissy about this you’re gonna need to do something to relax after dealing with him.”

Shockwave felt like his engine was going to stall out, optics wide as Longarm stared at Cliffjumper. For once in his life, Shockwave was at a loss for words, and he stayed silent as a slag-eating grin slowly spread over Cliffjumper’s faceplates.

“Well, I wasn’t sure about that but I’m sure that expression confirms it. It’s been awhile since you’ve been out in the field yourself, eh? You gave that up real quick.”

Longarm Prime smoothed out his expression. “You shouldn’t joke about these things Cliffjumper.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I won’t say anything. And you two aren’t actually noticable. I only wondered because I see you practically every solar cycle and now you have cycles where you actually manage to seem happy!”

Pity was finally taken upon Longarm as Cliffjumper turned to leave his office. “I’m going to be bold and say he’s good for you, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Shockwave hated how small the Longarm disguise was.

He was not the largest of Decepticons, but Shockwave was not small nor short. Though Longarm was wide, there were many Autobots his height or taller. One of the most unsettling aspects of starting this mission had been getting used to having to look up to Autobots.

However, when Shockwave was with Blurr he could manage to be content with his size. He was even comfortable as they lay in his berth, Blurr spooning him, tucked into him so that Shockwave could feel the venting from Blurr’s oral intake on the top of his helm.

Blurr had returned late from a mission last night. He had snuck up to Longarm’s habsuite, exhausted and wanting the chance to recharge next to someone warm and trusted. Longarm did not refuse him.

It was early; Longarm did not have to move from his bed yet. Artificial light gave his berthroom a light glow, filtered by a screen covering his window.

Shockwave never entertained the thought of “What if he was just Longarm?” That thought was pointless. He didn't have to fake his contentment though, he shuttered his false optics, offlining his real one also, as he shifted backwards into Blurr, not falling back into recharge, simply resting.

Longarm Prime was actually Shockwave, and Blurr was Blurr - the Autobot, and eventually, they would have a mess on their servos. Shockwave was not naive; there was no happy ending to this.

Shockwave always gave everything to his work. He had built weapons and armour, had diligently worked his projects for the Cybertronian army before the Destron and then Decepticon rebellions. He had given body and mind over to the Decepticon Cause. He had never thought his spark separate from his processor, had always thought they would agree. But being with Blurr was, technically, a stupid decision.

This was the one way in life he was going to allow himself to be completely selfish.

He could allow himself to consider how to convince Blurr to defect to the Decepticons; it was a thought wholly worth the notion. However, he also could not delude himself to thinking it was an idea with a large margin of success. One of Blurr’s best qualities was his tireless dedication to his work, and his dedication went to the Autobots. Shockwave was confident in himself. Eventually, he could convince Blurr to defect; that he was sure of. It was a question of did he have the time to convince Blurr to defect?

Shuffling broke his train of thought. He felt Blurr’s lips curl into a smile against his helm. A blue servo moved down his body, sliding to the junction of pelvis plating and leg struts.

Blurr’s digits were light as they began probing at seams. Longarm imagined Blurr’s smile widening as he shifted his legs, allowing Blurr easier access. He opened his panels.

“Good morning. Since you’re interested do you mind helping me out?”

Even Shockwave’s processing power could have trouble with Blurr’s movements at times, especially when he had yet to bother fully rebooting from a recharge cycle. Forcing one’s self to fully online at once was possible, but doing so slowly and taking time when switching systems to awake functioning was best. Shockwave, as like the average among the population, onlined thought processes first, and motor and sensory functions second. He barely blinked before he suddenly found Blurr’s servo near his mouth, digits brushing against his lip plates.

Longarm complied. Shockwave had been very uneasy about using Longarm’s mouth for anything at the start of their relationship. Blurr had been considerate with his unease and hesitance. Kissing, in particular, was something that Shockwave was still undecided on if he enjoyed doing the act or not.

Blurr knew that, and even this he did not push. Longarm reached forward, taking Blurr’s digits into his intake. They both shifted so Blurr’s other arm could slide underneath Longarm, and the speedster pulled his lover into himself.

Blurr’s digits were thin and long. Longarm only played with them for a few moments, tongue pressing into Blurr’s servo before he released it from his mouth.

“Thank you.”

Shockwave was never going to be able to talk to anyone about Blurr. He couldn’t stand the thought about anyone knowing that he could be so _soft_.

Blurr worked him open with his digits, whispering disgustingly sweet-nothings at a mile a minute into his audile. The Autobot took his time before pulling his digits out and sliding between Longarm’s legs. Blurr held out until they were both satisfied, and afterwards his light frame draped itself across Longarm’s.

Blurr loved to cuddle. Shockwave had learned he didn’t mind it either.

“I am going to need your actual report soon.”

Since Blurr was returning from a successful mission all he needed to do was debrief with his handler and then he would have a cycle off. Agent Blurr was the only agent of the Intelligence Agency that reported directly to Longarm Prime, since he was the agent that handled whatever was deemed an urgent matter by the Magnus. It was a convenient situation that allowed them to take more moments like this.

“In a little bit. You’re comfy to lie on you know. Let me have this moment to relax please?”

Blurr was respectful of Longarm’s boundaries, always asking permission, allowing Longarm control. Respectful to the point where Shockwave was comfortable relinquishing control over to the other also.

Truly though, only ever some. Shockwave could never risk his own mission.

Their dangerous occupations were enough incentive that the topic of spark merging was never broached. Even if Blurr would accidentally start playing with Longarm’s chest seams at times such as these.

“Only for a little bit. I need to go into the office today.”

They shifted. Blurr snuggled into the crook of Longarm’s neck. Longarm wound his arms around him, comfortably hugging the other’s waist.

One might find it weird that Shockwave knew Blurr truly cherished their relationship _because_ he never broached the topic of sparking merging after that initial conversation, but their relationship would never get to be average.

 

* * *

 

Blurr shot off, the fading whir of his engines loud in the silence left in his wake. Shockwave’s spark was burning in his chest, spinning with uncertainty, and an emotion he would not recognize as fear.

Blurr could not get away. His work would not go to waste, and Lord Megatron’s plans would not go under because of a failure on Shockwave’s behalf. Striding to Metroplex’s controls, he brought up various camera feeds, following Blurr as he sped through the halls.

Despite whatever panic he had displayed at the revelation of Longarm Prime’s betrayal, Blurr sped through the building’s network of hallways with ease, with clean turns that did not hinder his speed. Shockwave’s processor began to run calculations, trying to project Blurr’s path and when he would arrive at key locations.

His clawed servo hovered over the controls, his one optic glancing across the screens as he flipped through feeds.

_That room will do._

A tap of his servo, the timing perfectly calculated. It left Blurr trapped, a loud _bang_ resounding through the video feed as the Autobot hit a now closed doorway. Another _bang_ as he turned and accelerated, hitting the doorway he used as an entrance. That was enough time for the walls to start moving.

Some Autobot security measures where odd, to say the least, but this room evidently had turned out ideal for Shockwave’s needs. On another screen he opened up the Intelligence Agency’s file network; he doubted Blurr had done a data dump before coming to see him but it would be prudent to check. He needed to keep his processor on the data he was sifting through but -

Blurr, Blurr was supposed to be the one who actually cared about spark resonance, not him. He had done well to this point to ignore the part of his processor that had began to enjoy the simple fact that Blurr was his and he was Blurr’s.

His processor was conflicted, labelling the concept of resonance as illogical _and_ logical. How could a relationship be predestined? It implied Primus had actual influence in the universe, but if so where was the god through the vorns and vorns of war that had ravaged Cybertron?

But the goal of spark resonance was to better both bots - another half to make one whole. Blurr had made him better. The Autobot had tested every ounce of control he had. A part of Shockwave still wanted to steal him away. A part wanted to mold Blurr into a devoted Decepticon, so that the two of them could plague the efforts of Autobot Intelligence and Command _together_.

Did Blurr make him whole?

He couldn't answer that. How could another add so completely to his being that such a notion could be prescribed too? Shockwave was Shockwave and that would not change. His processor began running speculations of how spark merging might -

Probability, the prospect of the unknown, those were the excuses he used to explain why he halted the walls. It was matters of the processor, the prospect for further knowledge, not the the ugly curl of anguish in his spark at the thought of losing Blurr. The revulsion coursing through his being was not something he was thinking about. His servos shook, full body rattling as he looked up to the camera screens to peer at his resonant.

Blurr hung suspended in the air between the two walls. One leg was completely crushed. Its pointed knee had dug into Blurr’s chestplating, gouging the metal so deep that a flicker of spark light shone through. The Autobot looked up to the camera, embedded in the wall along the center of the room, before he passed out from the pain.

Shockwave retracted the walls. Blurr fell to the ground with a _clang_ , body splayed haphazardly.

He couldn’t leave Blurr there, but he also couldn’t give the bot the medical attention he needed. Longarm Prime was authorized to carry an extensive field repair kit, because of a skill set he had gained while climbing Intelligence’s command structure in support based roles.

Shockwave shifted to his alter. He was far more used to performing field repairs as Longarm now instead of Shockwave. His default motor function memory was far more efficient in this form.

Blurr was still unconscious when Shockwave reached him. The cameras were already running on a loop of the hallway when empty, but Longarm still had to act quickly.

He put a patch weld over Blurr’s spark. He removed the tire from Blurr’s mangled leg; it was punctured and deflated, and the rim was crushed. He slowly straightened it, protoform and armour screeching as it was stretched back out. A splint was quickly put in place.

Now, the tricky part, and it was the skill that Shockwave had found easiest to learn.

Most mecha trained in field repairs (that were not designated, fully fledged field medics) failed to certify themselves in coding practices. Shockwave’s expertise in hocking had made him a quick study, but he had made it appear that Longarm had needed to diligently study to pick up the skill.

Longarm plugged into Blurr’s medical port, sifting through countless lines of code. He found what he needed. The automatic repair functions for Blurr’s mangled leg were reduced, lowered so that they nanites wouldn’t do work beyond keeping the protoform in that leg alive. The basic struts and armour were both so badly damaged they could not be allowed to heal without medical attention and observation, lest Blurr lose proper functionality of the limb.

Longarm pulled out of Blurr’s coding. He took a moment to stare at the Autobot before gingerly scooping him into his arms. It would have been easier to carry Blurr as Shockwave, but it was safer to do so as Longarm. If he was spotted he could claim that he had found the agent like this, and the the agent had been presumably injured during his mission.

However, it would be best if they weren’t spotted at all.

The Head of Intelligence had a small habsuite connected to their office for personal use if they ever needed to work late and did not feel like returning to their main suite. Longarm Prime was the only one with access to it, and he carefully maintained its security.

Usually, he used it as a space to shift back into his true form, when he needed breaks from being Longarm Prime in the middle of the work day. Now, it was the perfect spot hide Blurr away.

They managed to get to Longarm’s office without passing anyone. Shockwave would have the chance to alter security footage before anyone else saw it. They entered the habsuite, and Longarm carefully place Blurr on the berth.

Blurr would need attention soon. Longarm plugged into the bot again, locking him in stasis so he wouldn’t wake while Longarm was away. That would buy time until he could return.

First, though. Blurr had been close to compromising his mission. Others might be also. Shockwave started mulling over possibilities as Longarm turned away from his lover. He closed the door to the small habsuite, making sure it was locked and secure.

Blurr would be here later. He needed to cover his own back first before he could help the Autobot.

 

* * *

 

Blurr may have been a creature of speed, but he was thankful to online slowly.

Awareness spread through his body, a slow trail of awakening sensors that immediately began to scream pain at him. The medical berth was a cold comfort beneath him. He heard the monitors and equipment quietly beeping and whirring around him. He did not yet open his optics.

He did not have to wait long before he heard the door to his room open. There was silence for a moment, the small _tap_ of what was presumably a datapad being set on the table beside his berth.

“If you are online agent Blurr, know that you are safe within Fortress Maximus.”

Red Alert’s habits never changed. Her experience and professionalism was the reason why she frequently worked with high ranking officers when available, but her original station had briefly been with the Intelligence Agency at the start of her career. The few times he had managed to frag himself utterly, he had always had Red Alert as his physician.

He onlined his optics; Red Alert nodding as she leaned over to take a quick glance at them. “Good to see you back, Blurr.” She began to check over welds and patches, Blurr’s optics following her as she worked.”Unfortunately, I do not have time to give you a full update on your status. That will be later, and I shall also be the one to give you your recovery and rehabilitation timeline.” Deftly, she opened a panel on Blurr’s head, removing an inhibitor to his sensor horn that had been in place to allow a completely undisturbed rest for him. “Your speed should not be affected in the long run, but we will especially need to monitor your new joints as you heal.”

She reached out to grab the datapad, a downward quirk to her mouth the only sign that she was frustrated at something. “But first, the Acting Magnus is adamant that you go through an immediate debriefing. Command wants a report on everything that happened to you.”

Blurr already had his sensory crest fully back online. His auditory receptors were not the strongest component of his sensors, but they were heightened to above the average bot’s. His sensory units were all interconnected, and with the inhibitor gone, he now heard other mecha coming down the hall long before they reached the door.

Red Alert and him both had matching frowns as who-now-must-be Sentinel Magnus walked into the room, Cliffjumper quietly trailing behind him. Red Alert was quick to wipe hers away, face shifting to an expression of neutral professionalism. Blurr felt an ache in his chest, pain a constant undercurrent in every part of his body; he didn’t care what his expression looked like.

Sentinel returned the frown in favour as he met Blurr’s optics. His platitudes felt forced. “Good to see you up, agent Blurr.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Neither Sentinel nor Cliffjumper took a seat. They stood at the end of Blurr’s berth. Sentinel’s spinal strut was ramrod straight, helm held high so that he was looking down at Blurr. Cliffjumper was fiddling with a datapad, an air of frustration around him. The bot was known for his temper, but between him and his superior, it was Cliffjumper that gave Blurr a nod of acknowledgement that felt steps above the distrusting glare Sentinel was sending his way.

Sentinel huffed, turning to face Red Alert. “You need to leave. Cliffjumper and I need to speak to agent Blurr alone.”

The medic’s expression was still neutral as she nodded. Red Alert turned to the monitors beside Blurr’s berth. “How is the pain?”

“Bearible.”

“I’ll come give you pain medication after the interview. Here is the call button if you need me before then.” She gave the remote to Blurr before turning back to Sentinel. “Now, he literally _just_ woke up. I understand the importance of your work but do not undermine my own. Do not unneededly aggravate him. He has major internal injuries that are still healing. If Blurr looks like he needs any form of medical attention end the interview and call me back in.”

Sentinel Magnus waved his servo, “Alright, alright, now leave so we can get this done with all the quicker then.”

Red Alert huffed. The medical room’s door closed behind her with a quiet _click_ , and Cliffjumper stepped up to it to lock it. The red mech moved to stand beside Sentinel again.

Sentinel may have been the one in charge, but Cliffjumper was the one who actually worked Intelligence. (And Blurr would guess that he wrote a far more well written report than the Acting Magnus.) He fiddled with his datapad one last time, placing it on the berth beside Blurr’s pedes. The pad was designed for taking interviews, and the sensitive microphone within it would have no problem recording all their of their voices. Blurr assumed there were security cameras in the room as well. He had been in the normal private recovery rooms before; this was not one of them.

Cliffjumper’s voice was rough, and it sounded worn with weariness. Blurr assumed the Intelligence Office was still one giant mess since -

“Now, agent Blurr, we need to debrief you from your last mission.”

Cliffjumper followed standard protocol, doing a recount of Blurr’s original objective and mission parameters before he came to the point where the mission went off tract. Sentinel’s impatience managed to be palpable, but the blue mech almost managed to restrain himself from complaining.

“So you figured out how a way we could possibly identify who the Decepticon spy, and so returned to Cybertron to inform Longarm Prime?”

“Yes.”

“Did anyone else know the information you had?”

“No, if they did not all of -”

Sentinel’s patience came to its end. “Could we get to the point of all of this already!”

Blurr frowned, and Cliffjumper’s mouth shifted into a hard line. “Would you like to take over the interview, Sentinel Magnus, sir?”

Sentinel glared at Blurr. “What happened when you returned to Cybertron?”

“I went immediately to Metroplex to report to Longarm Prime. My intel was too important to do anything else with it, or for me to do anything before I reported it into Longarm Prime himself. When-” Blurr’s vocalizer stalled out for a moment, clicking for a moment before he managed to speak again. “When Shockwave realized I had the information needed to blow his cover he tried to kill me.”

Blurr felt sick, like he wanted to purge his tanks. He fought to keep his servos still, and to keep his engine from sputtering or revving. He wanted to run but those thoughts just reminded him of the pain in his legs. He hoped the emotions welling in his spark would not show on his faceplates.

Sentinel’s statement was terse. “But he didn’t kill you.”

“Evidently not.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, sir. I lost consciousness right after he crushed me. I don’t know anything about what happened to me afterwards, or how I ended up here in the medical complex, or what has happened to the Decepticon Shockwave.”

For a moment there was silence. Blurr realized it was one of the rare instances where Sentinel was deeply considering his words before he spoke. Blurr’s tanks clinched with unease.

“You were found hidden in the personal habsuite connected to the Head of Intelligence’s office when investigators were trying to uncover everything Shockwave had sabotaged as Longarm Prime. You were in stasis lock, and repairs that matched the level of medical knowledge that Longarm Prime had been trained for had been applied to your injuries.”

“Shockwave’s cover was blown then?”

Cliffjumper spoke up. “Yes. Shockwave and others, including Megatron, our now in our custody.”

Blurr nodded. “That’s good news.”

Sentinel continued to glare, a deep scowl on his faceplates. “A Decepticon not only left you alive, but also repaired you, and hid you away where only he had access to you. As Longarm Prime he was your superior Blurr; you wouldn’t have any information that he didn’t already know. Do you see what I’m getting at here?”

“I didn’t know Longarm was Shockwave; I wasn’t working with him.”

“Why drop his title? Cliffjumper here confirms that the relationship between you two was _very_ friendly.”

Blurr’s spark was roaring, over energizing his whole frame. He bit his tongue to refrain from fidgeting.

“Well? Agent Blurr?”

Blurr fought to keep his voice steady. “I did not know that Longarm Prime was the Decepticon Shockwave. I was not working with him.”

He paused, not to collect his thoughts, but to struggle to keep his speech from careening into speed that Sentinel Magnus and Cliffjumper would not be able to understand.

“But- me and Longarm - we -” Blurr’s voice glitched out. “We were -”

“Spit it out, agent Blurr!”

“Stupid fragging Decepticon’s my fragging spark resonant.”

Though his healing chest screamed in agongy at the action, Blurr curled up, burying his head in his knees. He did not want to see whatever looks of revulsion or pity were on their faceplates.

**Author's Note:**

> This is where you can thank  eatyoursparkout  for a sequel cause they accidentally put an idea in my brain :P


End file.
